


Pathetic

by kawaiibossAssSwagbitch420



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5726452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiibossAssSwagbitch420/pseuds/kawaiibossAssSwagbitch420
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I suppose,” that voice sings, husky with lust, “I’ll see you soon? Hm, Hirako?”</p><p>His face blanches. But he doesn’t refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pathetic

There wasn’t getting around it. No matter how often they met, the air around them seemed charged with a certain energy, one that left a humming warmth in Take’s stomach. One he’d never felt before.

“ _Hirako_ ,” the low voice drawled. Honey pouring from a glass jar. Thick and slow.

He’d encountered No Face several times in his youth. They were both young, filled with something to prove. When their weapons met, he felt the ghoul’s eyes searching his body, calculating his weak spots. But he was a well-oiled machine, an instrument of the CCG. There was no weak spot, in his mind. But No Face found it, with his taunting words and warm voice. His weak spot _was_ his mind.

“ _Always second best_.” Wet cotton fills his insides, suffocates him. He feels it press against his fingertips, his toes. He squirms around it.

He felt weak, that night No Face got the best of him. Held him down and reminded him just how painfully _dull_ he was. Second best. Arima would have killed him by now. But the fluttering in his chest held him back. He’d never received this much attention. He craved it, so long as that tender voice was the one humiliating him.

“ _Such a disappointment_.” Fingers graze his jawline, control his body. It’s maddening. His body twists with need, the voice tuts him softly. Always so soft.

He scolds himself when he comes back for more. But that voice is addicting. It muddles his brain and makes him forget. Forget his anxieties, his doubts. With that voice in his ear, he doesn’t think at all.

He just _feels_. Lips against his skin, a bite pressed into his neck. The voice encourages him as he rocks back into fingers pressing inside of him. Stretching. Prying. 

“ _Worthless_.”

He’s never allowed to speak. But what could he say? It’s not like the voice was lying to him. Just reaffirming everything he felt, branding it into his skin like his words were white-hot iron. But he needed the marks. Searched for them daily. He felt whole knowing he wasn’t the only one that saw the truth.

“ _You’re so pathetic like this_.” Hands force him into a sinful position, ass in the air and on display for him. He feels the voice slither against his skin, shivers at the contact. He aches to be touched, but Uta’s just _watching_ , laughs darkly when Take flushes all over.

“ _Beg for it_.”

“ _Please_.” He’s breathless already, throbbing all over as his heart pounds. He winces when that voice laughs again.

“ _You’re even terrible at begging. Is there_ anything _you’re good at?_ ”

“No.”

“Then try again.”

The voice invades his mind, jumbles his thoughts. It makes him look stupid. Makes him insecure about himself. He wants to curl in on himself and wither away. But when he’s displayed so perfectly, it’s nearly impossible.

So he finally let’s go. “Please. I-I need this. _Fuck_ me.”

The voice hums. Take shudders.

“ _Not good enough_.”

“Oh _god_ please. Just fuck me,” he whimpers. He’s gone. Completely lost in the haze. “I need it so bad. God, just _fuck me_.”

It’s enough. He feels the pressure slowly stretching him open, the slip and drag of the other’s member. But his voice never lets up, never lets him forget.

“ _You’re so pathetic, Hirako. Getting fucked so good, by a_ ghoul. _I thought you hated ghouls?_ ”

His body twitches with need. He needs this release to feel whole again. So he begs for more, ruts back to meet the other’s thrusts. They set a brutal pace together, Uta scratching and biting mindlessly at skin while Take buries his face into the pillow. He’s so warm, everything about him is so warm. But his words bite like a bitter chill, seep into Take’s bones. The contrast is unreal.

His body stretches, his limbs begin to ache. He can feel it. That buzzing warmth coiled at the base of his spine, spreading through his body like a slow burning fire. It reaches a crescendo, heat flooding his entire being and chasing the cold settled into his bones. He muffles his voice in the pillow, listens for Uta to follow after him with his own climax. There’s no fanfare. There’s no praises. There’s nothing.

But most of all, there’s no need to stay. So Take redresses, nods toward the ghoul—lounging on the bed, embracing the afterglow—and goes to leave.

“I suppose,” that voice sings, husky with lust, “I’ll see you soon? Hm, Hirako?”

His face blanches. But he doesn’t refuse.

**Author's Note:**

> another reupload of an old work from the old account
> 
> take pity on this war-worn soldier i have so much to upload tonight


End file.
